


Well to Patch and Dress

by mercurybard



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco, The Academy Is...
Genre: A Little Less Sixteen Candles A Little More "Touch Me" (Video), Hallucinations, M/M, Twilight References, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 10:05:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11507157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurybard/pseuds/mercurybard
Summary: It was Brendon, of course, who insisted they go see Twilight.





	Well to Patch and Dress

**Author's Note:**

> The alternative title was "The Dandies Go See Twilight"...it devolved from there. Keep in mind that William is a very old vampire, and they don't perceive time like we do.

It was Brendon, of course, who insisted they go see _Twilight_. He couldn’t even wait for opening night—no, he wanted to go to the special midnight showing.

“You realize he’s not going to stop whining until you give him permission,” Spencer said, leaning against the wall of the manse, his arms folded over his chest. He had been part of a two-for-one deal…a direct result of Brendon’s Power of Whine. If Brendon had not spent six months pining over Spencer’s best friend, Ryan, William would have never considered turning either boy. But Brendon had found the slender, sarcastic Ryan Ross too irresistible not to have. The irony of it was that Ryan Ross as a vampire wouldn’t give Brendon the time of day any more than Ryan Ross the human.

Anyway, _Twilight_ (the older William grew, the more disorganized his thoughts became. He’d asked Gabe if this was simply a natural progression of their curse, but of course Gabe couldn’t comprehend it. Once William’s sire focused his sinister attention on something, it consumed him wholly. Of course, the objects of Gabe’s obsession usually resulted in bloodbaths and massacres. William’s own whims were a bit more…whimsical.)

Damnation, there went his thoughts again. Thankfully, Spencer had been placed in charge of purchasing the movie tickets from the pimply-faced girl behind the box office glass. Brendon was bouncing beside William, barely able to contain his excitement. The childe had _devoured_ the books. He’d refused to speak or eat the night _Breaking Dawn_ had been released, not until he’d finished the entire novel cover-to-cover.

Gabriel would never understand this fascination with _fiction_ and would certainly never indulge his fledglings like this. This was why William ventured out here to Chicago: the Second City, at the time he left the East Coast, a Mecca of vice and indulgence in the Midwest.

A gaggle of teenage girls in prom dresses and Chucks rushed by. Their passing made Ryan stir, looking up with something close to interest in his eyes. He’d been sulky and sullen since waking up at sunset.

“Don’t,” Spencer said, returning with the tickets, “You’ll just end up with a mouthful of glitter.”

“They want it though,” Ryan replied. The tip of his tongue traced over the prominent point of a canine. “That’s what those books are all about—the ordinary girl wanting to be made into a monster by the pretty, pretty vampire. She’s _determined_. Are we sure this Stephanie Meyers isn’t one of us, indoctrinating an entire generation to love the night?” He smiled then, a grin of savage bloodlust that made William’s spine tingle, just a little. They hadn’t hunted as a group in _ages_. Not since that disaster with Pete…

He let himself spiral down into an interior world, clinging to those bitter memories. His childer—so good to him, these boys, unlike a certain ungrateful brat—took him by the hands and led him into the movie theater. Everything sounded so distant and echoing, as if he were viewing the world from the end of a long tunnel. 

“What are you supposed to be?” a long-suffering boyfriend demanded with a sneer at their clothes as they passed, “ _Interview with a Vampire_?” Spencer rolled his eyes as Ryan snarled.

“Be nice,” Brendon begged. He veered towards the concession stand. “We need popcorn.”

“We can’t eat it,” Ryan snapped. 

Ryan wanted to rip out the throat of the youth foolish enough to mock their clothing—William could practically taste the desire on the back of his tongue. It had a decidedly metallic tang. Pete’s skin had tasted like that. Copper and habaneras, and William had run his tongue across the boy’s collarbone, tasting it. Tracing the black lines of the collar of thorns that Pete wore like a penance for sins he hadn’t committed yet. 

“Why didn’t you tattoo it across your forehead like a proper crown?” William asked the memory that appeared before him, standing on the theater seat below them, hands in fingerless driving gloves curled over the back of the chair to keep his balance. The light of the theater screen gleamed off his shoulders and threw his face in shadow. 

Brendon’s hand tightened on William’s knee until the bones creaked and popped. On screen, a deer was tackled, and a female voice rhapsodized about giving one’s life for love. Had the doe been leading the camera away from some precious fawn when she ran right into the arms of the hunter? William had seen _Bambi_ once when Brendon was just a fledgling. His childe cried tears of blood when the fawn’s mother was shot, and William had snacked on a small child that had toddled away from its parents in the dark of the theater.

The specter of Pete climbed over the chair—more graceful in William’s mind than in any memory even after his transformation—and sank to his knees between William’s legs. Such a sleek, compact killing machine that William had created with nothing more than his spit and bite. The vision wore no shirt, surrounded in this sea of giggling girls by acres of tulle and sequins, just jeans tight as sin and a studded belt that promised at perversions William had never gotten to sample—Pete had run away too quickly.

The button on William’s trousers popped. His own hands gripped the armrests, nails digging curls of plastic from the cup holders. This was his mind manipulating his fly while the hallucination crouched between his knees, watching William be made exposed to the over-chilled air of the theater with dark, hungry eyes. 

If he breathed, he would have gasped as Pete’s hand wrapped around William’s cock--the smooth leather covering his palm much too harsh against William’s skin—and brought it to his lips. He would have panted as Pete began to lick and suck with boundless enthusiasm and little skill. A knick of newly-grown fang caused the most delicious pain, and William could feel something curl low in his gut like the sleepy stretches of a large cat just woken. He could come just from that tiny slip of tooth. 

He fled to the restroom before the fantasy could reach its inevitable end. Pete, wisely, remained behind while a young brunette bumbled her way through a first day of school on screen.

His own blood was colder than the tap water he splashed on his face, even though the faucet was turned all the way to ‘C’. 

“This is the girls’ room,” someone said, and William raised his head to look over his own reflection’s shoulder. He could smell the question mark on the end of that sentence—the girl’s own hesitation gone unspoken. Even though she knew she came into the right bathroom, she still couldn’t be entirely confident. 

Her blue prom dress fell in tiers to her shins, doing little to conceal the bulky walking boot. Her sweater was hideous, and he let it fall into a greasy puddle in the alley behind the theater. She quivered—with fear, yes, but it was more than that, he decided as her blood oozed up around his fangs and slid honey-sweet down his throat. It was more that her entire soul quivered with passion so tightly constrained that it couldn’t help but slip out at odd times, making her look uncoordinated and awkward. Clumsy.

Her flavor was so beautiful, William thought as he held her drained body in his arms. A pity Pete hadn’t been here to share it with him.


End file.
